Ahead of the Game (DCI Logan Crime Thrillers Book 10) by JD Kirk

Author:JD Kirk [Kirk, JD]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Zertex Crime
Published: 2021-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

Lachlan had made it clear that he wasn’t comfortable with this, but Bennet had virtually begged. He stood halfway down the stairs, breath held, weight balanced in such a way that he could beat as quiet and quick a retreat as possible.

He’d been straining to hear the conversation going on in the living room when the big guy had taken Clyde through to the kitchen. It had happened so suddenly that Lachlan had no time to escape, and he could do nothing but stand there frozen like the prey of some apex predator, braced for the snapping of hungry jaws.

They had passed the foot of the stairs without looking up, and Lachlan’s heart had started beating again at the sound of the kitchen door closing.

It had been Bennet’s idea to listen in. He’d been too scared to do it himself, though. Too worried about getting caught. They’d been friends for a year or so now, and Lachlan had always been the older one. The bolder one. The bigger brother. He could say things to Clyde that Bennet wouldn’t dare. And now, it seemed, he was also in charge of the espionage department.

“What are they saying?” Bennet whispered from the top of the stairs.

“I have no idea,” Lachlan whispered back. “The kettle’s boiling in the kitchen, and your mum’s talking really quietly.”

“Get a bit closer,” Bennet urged.

“Fuck off! You get a bit closer!” Lachlan hissed back. “That’s the police. I’m not getting mixed up in… whatever this is.” He looked up the steps behind him. “What is it, anyway? Why are the police here?”

“That’s what I want to find out,” Bennet said, but there was something off about the delivery. He knew more than he was letting on, Lachlan thought.

“You don’t have any idea?” he asked. “You sure?”

Bennet started to say, “No,” but his mouth clamped itself shut around the lie, turning it into a pained sort of, “Nnng,” instead. He nodded, just once, then looked down at his feet. The toes hung over the edge of the top step like he was getting ready to launch himself into the abyss.

Or headfirst down the stairs, at least.

Lachlan crept up a step. The voices downstairs became fainter.

“What is it?” he asked. “What’s happened?”

Bennet’s lips were sealed shut, but his jaw was moving up, and down, and side to side. The movements became more and more agitated until it looked like he was fighting to contain an increasingly irate wasp.

Lachlan took another step closer. Close enough to notice the shake of Bennet’s hands. Close enough to hear the crack in his voice.

“It’s that… Remember that teacher I told you about?”

“Who? The horrible old cow, or the nice one?”

“The nice one. Fergus.” Bennet looked up, and his eyes were two dark hollows. “He’s dead,” he said. The words were whispered, yet they filled the stairway around them. “He’s been murdered.”

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